


Almost Pick Up the Phone

by chchchchcherrybomb



Series: The Desperate Type [12]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, Drunk Kissing, Drunk Texting, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Post-Break Up, TDT Break Up, The Desperate Type, making poor decisions because you are SAD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 05:45:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12184047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chchchchcherrybomb/pseuds/chchchchcherrybomb
Summary: "I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”----The Desperate Type, drabble, post-break up. Evan's POV.





	Almost Pick Up the Phone

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr dialogue prompt!

Tom and Oscar had insisted he come out with them. Evan had reluctantly agreed, mostly because he had spent the last few hours just refreshing Connor’s facebook page like a complete stalker freak, and he knew that wasn’t healthy. 

It wasn’t like Connor posted much anyway. 

They had a few drinks in their dorm before they got on the bus to the gay bar on the other side of town that sponsored 18 plus nights. Tom was something of an expert at underage drinking; he had flirted with the bouncer while Oscar had snagged three 21+ wristbands from the guy’s back pocket. The three of them headed off to the bathroom, washing off their underage stamps and putting on the 21+ wristbands. They waited until they were sure the bouncer wasn’t watching before they went up to the bar and paid for their drinks in cash. 

Oscar and Tom were great about not making Evan feel excluded. After a few drinks, he wasn’t even that self conscious about how he was dancing. He actually started to have some fun, dancing with Tom and Oscar. He escaped to get a glass of water and was surprised when someone tapped on his shoulder. 

Evan turned. 

It was Jo, the girl from the LGBT Campus Center with the cotton candy pink hair. “Hey!” She said, smiling at him. “This is probably super weird, but, um… I’m Jo? We met a few weeks ago at this LGBT thing… You made a pun about being bi… Oh my god I’m sorry I’m being so weird.”

“I remember you,” Evan said, trying his best to smile back. “I’m Evan.”

“Oh um… I know.”

Evan raised his eyebrows. 

“I just… you had a name tag on. I’m sorry I’m making this so weird.”  
Evan shook his head, smiling. “Do you want a drink?”

She blinked, surprised. “Oh I’m..” She showed him her underage stamp. 

Evan smiled. “Same. I just had a friend flirt with the bouncer.”

She laughed. “Vodka cranberry?”  
“Okay,” Evan said. He walked over to the bar, ordered Jo a drink, and wondered just what the hell he thought he was playing at. He didn’t know her. He wasn’t suave or cool. Why had she even come up to him? 

He brought her back the drink, and they talked for a little bit before Jo said, “I know it’s a gay club… do you think we’ll get the stink eye if we dance together?”

“Who cares?” Evan said. 

Evan realized about then that he was drunk. The lights kept changing, flashing all sorts of colors, and he let Jo with her pink hair pull him to her, chest to chest, and they were just kind of dance, and after a while, feeling a bit bold, Evan leaned over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

She shouted over the music, “I want to kiss you.”

And Evan kissed her. 

He realized, distantly, that this was the first time he had kissed someone who wasn’t Connor in over a year. Her mouth tasted like cranberry juice and vodka, and her lips were soft against his. Evan didn’t objectively know how to kiss this girl. Or any girl. Or any person who wasn’t Connor. He didn’t have the practice. 

She pulled Evan off of the dance floor after a while, into a more secluded corner, where they just kept kissing, his hands tentatively in her hair, sometimes touching her shoulder. 

“Wow,” She said, pulling way, smiling. “You’re like… Really cute.”

“Thanks,” he said, trying to smile back, “So are you.”

She kissed him again.

“I really like you,” She said, and Evan hummed again her lips, and after a while Tom found him and tapped his shoulder. 

“Hey, Evan, we’re gonna head out,” Tom said. “You ought to come home too.”

“I’m okay here,” Evan said.

“Are you sure?” Tom asked. 

“Yeah. I have my phone. I’ll text you later.”

“Okay…”

Evan turned back to Jo, who was smiling. He realized he was pretty drunk. And she was pretty drunk. He should go home with Tom. 

He turned to tell Tom that, but Tom was long gone. 

Jo took his hand. “I want to go outside for a smoke.”

“Okay.”

He followed her. Once outside, she kissed him again, and Evan realized how weird it was to kiss someone shorter than he was. She was a lot shorter. With Connor he had to crane his neck up. With her, he had to lean down. 

She lit a cigarette. She took a drag. “Do you want one?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Okay.” 

She held his hand in her free hand, and mumbled something about calling an uber. Evan looked down at their fingers laced together, and he noticed that her nails were painted black. 

For a second, Evan let himself pretend. He leaned over to kiss her, tasted the smoke on her tongue, and pretended she was someone else. Imagine Connor there, his hand in Evan’s. 

“We should call an uber,” Evan said after a while. 

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Do you want to come back to my place…? My roommate is home for the weekend.”

Evan shook his head. 

He asked for two stops when their driver picked them up. 

He stumbled into his room, drunk and drained, and tried to climb as quietly up into his top bunk as he could manage. 

He stared at his phone for a while, his fingers automatically selecting Connor’s contact. 

Evan’s fingers hesitated, but ultimately he put his phone down on the pillow, thinking better of it.

* * *

 

It was the week after Thanksgiving; Evan was still kind of reeling from his conversation with Connor at the mall. He would be here next year. He wanted to talk. He wanted to hope, he wanted to get excited, he wanted to plan for their eventual future together. 

But then there was reality. That reminded him that Connor wanted to talk, but he hadn’t said about what. That they hadn’t decided a date to do that. That he had finals to study for and other concerns he ought to be thinking about but the only thing he had managed to think about was Connor. 

“Do you maybe want to go out tonight?” he asked Tom, pretend casually, over dinner in the dining hall that night. 

“Um.” Tom put down his fork. “Are you sick?”

Evan shook his head. “Just. Long week. I could use a night out.”

“You gonna text that girl Jo?”   


Evan shook his head. “I think I sort of made an idiot of myself around her.”

“If you say so.”

 

So that night, Evan went out with Tom. Just the two of them. Tom drunkenly called it a girl’s night. They didn’t bother swapping wristbands this time; Tom decided they’d just flirt with older guys to get drinks. 

Evan thought that was a pretty stupid idea, but he was already pretty drunk by the time they had gone out, sneaking vodka lemonades in their dorm room while they watched an old episode of Law and Order: SVU. 

Tom actually managed a level of success with the first guy he chatted with, scoring himself and Evan a lemon drop a piece. 

“Your turn,” Tom said when their older pals had headed off to dance. “Try to play up the wholesome thing.”

“You’re kind of bossy,” Evan said, stumbling a little over his words. 

“You like it.”

Evan and Tom eventually settled on this guy with an industrial piercing sitting at the bar. Tom had noticed his tattoo, some Nietzsche quote, and Evan, who was in a philosophy class that semester, asked about it. 

The guy was really into nihilism. And tequila. And Evan, weirdly enough. 

Tom eventually got bored and headed off to get some water for Evan, who was pretty drunk,

and Evan, still chatting with the nihilist found himself in a somewhat familiar position. 

“I’m gonna step out for a smoke. Want to come?”

Evan looked over at Tom, who was chatting with a friendly looking pair of lesbians. “I don’t smoke.”

“Come outside anyway.”

Evan agreed. 

They were making out, the nihilist’s cigarette long forgotten, to the sound of the bass from a loud song inside. This guy made a better pretend Connor. He was taller. He tasted like smoke. His hair was wrong though, cut far too short, so Evan just kept his hands on his shoulders. 

“Come home with me.”

“I can’t,” Evan said, pulled away. 

The guy kissed his neck. “Come home with me.”

“No, really, I-”

“Come on, don’t be a tease…”

Evan shoved away from him. “I said no.”

“Yeah, a lot of people do,” The guy said, taking a step closer, but then Tom was outside, Tom looked twice his usual size, Tom shoved the guy further back. 

“He said no,” Tom said conversationally. “So feel free to fuck off now.” He turned to Evan and the pair of them started off, walking fast, Tom’s arm around Evan’s shoulder. They didn’t stop for at least ten blocks, taking a few wrong turns just to make sure the guy hadn’t followed. 

When they finally slowed down outside of a 7/11, Tom looked at Evan seriously. “Are you okay?”

Evan shrugged. He wasn’t sure. He was freaked out, but objectively nothing had actually happened. 

“You left your phone on the bar,” Tom said, handing it over. “So I knew something was up.”

Evan took the phone, muttering a quick thanks. “Sorry.”

“Dude, don’t be sorry. It was my stupid idea to flirt for drinks tonight. That guy took it too far. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying closer attention.”

Evan nodded, picking at the hem of his shirt. 

“We should get home.”

“Yeah.”

Tom called them a lyft, and Evan stared blankly at his phone the whole drive home. He had gotten a text while he had been outside with the nihilist guy. 

From Zoe. 

His heart had leapt into his throat when he read “Murphy.”

The text said, “When does your break start? I miss you. Connor’s sulking around the house and it’s driving me bonkers.” 

Evan slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

He and Tom rode the elevator to their room in silence. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Evan shrugged. “I think so.”

“Okay.”

Tom headed off to brush his teeth and Evan stared drunkenly at the black screen of his phone. He had kissed that guy because he reminded Evan of Connor. 

God he was a fucking wreck. 

He opened up his messages, the last thread with Connor, and typed out, “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

He stared at it a minute, his finger hovering over the send button. 

But then Tom walked back into the room, and Evan hit backspace before he could do something stupid like send it. 

 


End file.
